Stefan Salvatore
by doodlechick12
Summary: 5 times Stefan was part of the X-Men, and the one time Damon was too.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or X-Men.**

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><p><strong>Five times Stefan Salvatore was one of the X-Men, and one time Damon was too.<strong>

**1.**

Stefan Salvatore did not have a glamorous occupation. He woke up every morning at 6, got dressed for the day and packed his waiter uniform into his backpack. He drove to his high school and parked in the Junior's Only part of the parking lot and walked into the building where he did his best to not be noticed. After school, Stefan quickly drove to get to his shift as the restaurant, where he worked from 3:30 to 9:00 p.m. Stefan would then go home, get a shower and stay up to do his homework until midnight or later, depending on his workload.

He did all this on a regular day, with his mutation hindering him less often than not.

Today was not a regular day.

Stefan went to school and then to work as usual, but his first table was an anomaly. Not the table itself, but the two young men who occupied it certainly were. Both looked out of place; one man with ruffled brown hair wore a sweater vest and trousers, a knowing smile on his lips. The other was taller, and had an icy disposition; his eyes were particularly threatening.

Both of the men were watching Stefan.

"Is there anything I can get you today?" Stefan tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty, nervous palms on his pants to no avail. The men noticed.

"Actually, there is," The shorter man said. Stefan was intrigued to hear an upper class English accent the man possessed.

"My name," He continued, "is Charles Xavier. This is Erik Lehnsherr. Would you mind if we could talk privately?"

Stefan broke out into a sweat and said, "Of course. I, um, hold on for a moment please. I just need to ask my boss for a break and we can talk about whatever, okay?"

He didn't wait for a reply and wondered how on earth he hadn't foreseen this event. He scurried behind the counter and ditched his apron and tie and scrambled out of the back exit of the restaurant. Stefan turned to run, but froze when he saw the two men – Charles and Erik – standing in from of him. Charles was frowning and Erik seemed to be fighting a scowl.

"I told you he would run, Charles."

"It's alright, my friend. Stefan will hear us out, won't you?"

Stefan swallowed loudly.

"Look, if you're CPS, my brother's coming back – he – he just went out of town to look for a job – he's going to be back –"

"It's alright, Stefan. We're not from the Child Protective Services. We're mutants. Like you," Charles said, his voice calming and placating.

Then Charles was speaking in his mind, _I know that you're afraid. Your mother died when you were young and your father passed of cancer recently. I know that your brother Damon ran away with his girlfriend when he realized keeping an eye out for his sixteen year old brother wasn't _cool.

Stefan was startled.

"What can he do, then?" Stefan asked, and looked at Erik.

In response, the metal fire escape bent and flew into the air. "I can control metal with my mind."

"You have an extraordinary mind as well, don't you?" Charles asked Stefan encouragingly.

Hesitantly, Stefan nodded. "I can see the future."

"And where do you see yourself in a day?" Erik drawled, but his eyes were alert, watching Stefan's face.

Stefan's face fell slack as he felt his eyes glaze over and saw all of his possible futures. All of them had one thing in common.

Stefan smiled.

"With you and the other mutants."

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><p><strong>2.<strong>

Damon Salvatore was not impressed. He stood with the Brotherhood of Mutants in front of a burning school as many of the BoM rampaged the building. Magneto had found a perch to watch as well, but it was high above the action.

A flash of lightening hit close by.

"Hey Stef! Try that again and maybe it'll hit within a two mile radius this time!" He smirked when he saw his little brother running across the battle field, barreling towards him, and away from his circle of friends and comrades.

"Come and get me," Damon muttered.

Mystique's golden eyes pierced the back of Damon's skull. "You hate him."

"Yes."

"Why? He is your brother."

"I could say the same about you and Charles."

Mystique frowned. "I have always loved Charles. We just have different ideas about how to accomplish our goals."

"Well, your brother never killed your mother."

Mystique quirked her lips. "Oh?"

"The official story was that there was an electrical storm."

"But the real one was . . ."

The crackle of lightening answered her as Stefan started to run towards them.

"When did it happen?" Mystique asked.

"It was three months after Stefan turned eleven."

"It must have been an accident, surely . . ." Mystique trailed off, knowing that children did not have the best control over their mutations at that age.

"Sure. But he killed our mom. You can't forgive things like that," Damon said, eyes narrowed, and Mystique felt pity rise in her breast for this man, despite herself.

Stefan arrived in his skin tight X-Men suit, scowling at Damon. "Just leave the humans alone, Damon. I don't want want to play any games with you." Electricity danced off of Stefan's skin and Damon felt the pull of the water from nearby ponds. He called it, and all of the liquid available in the city surged through his fingertips.

"Game on, brother," Damon winked and he launched his water attack, meeting Stefan's electricity head on.

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><p><strong>3.<strong>

Stefan Salvatore tossed and turned in his bed, but froze when he heard his roommate groan. He peeked over and saw that Bobby Drake had not woken up, but changed positions. Stefan sighed in relief, but resigned himself to getting no sleep. He got up out of bed quietly and walked out of his room, closing the door softly.

Stefan padded down the hallways swiftly, heading for the kitchen. He flipped on the light when he got there, and felt himself turn invisible in shock. He must have made some sort of noise because the Wolverine spun around from the fridge and sniffed.

"Turn back so I can see you, brat," He growled.

Stefan felt something tug inside of him and then he was visible again. He flushed sheepishly at Logan's look.

"What are you doing up at this time of night, kid?" Logan asked gruffly and sat in the stool next to the counter, ice cream in hand. Wolverine set it down and tossed a spoon in Stefan's direction. Stefan barely caught it, and sat down. He stuck the spoon on the carton and scooped out a bit of chocolate ice cream.

"Couldn't sleep."

Logan grunted.

"It's just been kind of weird." Stefan started hesitantly and Logan looked up at him.

"I mean, the Professor's gone. Like, forever. He's – he's always been here, you know?" Stefan managed to get his words out, finally, and twisted his Salvatore family ring on his finger.

"Yeah," Wolverine grunted.

Stefan sighed. Logan was not the best person to look for comfort, unless you were a certain Southern Belle called Rogue.

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><p><strong>4.<strong>

Stefan hurried through the large crowd, careful not to touch a single soul.

But of course, this being New York City, it's just not possible to avoid touching _everyone _on a single street. People bumped into Stefan and he got fed private thoughts and feelings whenever someone made skin to skin contact. It was summertime, and many people did not wear long sleeves and long blue jeans when it was 96 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Skin to skin contact was inevitable.

Stefan made his to the subway and extensively maneuvered his body to make sure he could not touch anyone. He sat by himself in a lonely corner, which was his preferred setting, and pulled out his text books. Stefan checked his phone quickly, and noticed that he had six missed messages from his father, whom lived in Virginia on their family's old farm.

Stefan sighed and turned off his phone and focused his attention on his criminology books.

"Are you planning on joining a public service?" A voice called to Stefan, and he jumped.

"Huh?" Stefan asked, looking up.

Across from him sat a man who had not been sitting there before. He was tall looking, even sitting down. But what was peculiar were his ruby red glasses that wrapped around the man's face.

"I'm Scott Summers," He introduced himself, holding out a hand.

Stefan declined the hand with a muttered, "I don't like to touch."

The man nodded like he understood, but there was no possible way he could – it's not like he got a rush of feelings and thoughts someone had every time there was physical contact. Stefan's best friend Lexi teased it would be fun during sex, unless of course you were unsatisfying, but Stefan had yet to find out about that particular facet of life.

"That's okay. I forgot about your disinclination of shaking hands."

He forgot? "You forgot? Do I know you?" Stefan asked carefully. He was sure that he had never seen this man a day in his life, but Stefan found that at twenty, he'd forgotten some of his childhood friends. Maybe he did know this man?

But no, Stefan was certain he'd remember Scott Summers, if only because of his glasses.

"No, but I have friend who knows about you. His name is Charles Xavier and he wants you to join his school. He can help you."

"With what?" Stefan asked warily. He was always wary around people, now. It hadn't always been this way, but after the terrorist Magneto had recruited Stefan's brother for his ability to kill with a single touch, Stefan had been especially careful around strangers.

"Your telepathy."

Stefan's eyes widened.

He whispered, "My telepathy?"

Scott leant in as well, "Charles Xavier is a telepath as well; just a different kind than you. He knows about what happened with your brother and he understands that you're probably not going to want to come. But consider this. You could learn to control your ability. You could learn to only hear people's thoughts unless you wanted to. Charles can teach you that."

And Stefan accepted, even though Xavier was an enemy of Magneto.

Stefan just wanted some silence in his own head.

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><p><strong>5.<strong>

Stefan Salvatore was an old man, perpetually stuck in the body of his seventeen year old self. He'd been born in the 1800s, along with his older brother Damon. They were called demons at first, when they didn't age. They didn't have a name for what they were until 1962.

Mutant.

Freak.

Abomination.

Stefan and Damon handled the persecution differently.

Damon used his regenerative healing in combat, against the humans. No matter how many times he'd be shot, Damon would get back up again until his human target was killed. Damon used his ability to heal others to destroy humans' bodies. Healing can be used as a weapon, Damon discovered. And he liked it. He joined the renegade group led by the German man, Magneto.

Stefan used his ability to heal others by working in hospitals and clinics. He wandered battle fields and helped the wounded, leaving before they could identify him. Stefan floated through his nearly immortal life (he was never immortal – his and Damon's cells were extremely regenerative, allowing them to remain looking and feeling young, for a long, long time.)

Stefan had never met someone with the exact same ability as he and his brother. He'd once met a man and his own older brother with similar talents, though. Stefan and Damon had still been on speaking terms at the time, and had watched the two other brothers from afar. Their names were James Logan and Victor Creed.

Damon and Stefan watched them for weeks and noticed immediately that they had similar regenerate abilities. Then they noticed the bone claws and the extremely long finger nails. Damon had thought the finger nails looked at old granny nails. (He wasn't completely wrong.)

The Salvatore's left the other brothers alone, and soon they too parted ways. Damon was caught up in terrorism, and Stefan wandered alone.

He was found by the X-Men in 1999.

Charles Xavier had come across him while using Cerebro and thought to inquire about him. He and Stefan had seemed to have similar ways of thinking, and became good friends; the old soul and the old man.

A few years after that, Stefan met James Logan again at the Xavier Institute. Of course, by then, James Logan was just Logan, or also known as Wolverine.

Stefan didn't tell the other mutant that he'd seen him before.

They got along alright and certainly better than Cyclops and Wolverine did, but they were never the best friends. That was okay.

Stefan had never met Damon across a battle field before the night on the Statue of Liberty.

His brother was ruthless, but made sure that no one else touched a hair on Stefan's head. Stefan supposed that was what it meant to be the big brother to Damon –he could pick on Stefan, but no one else could.

That was okay too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>1. And the one time they joined the X-Men together.<strong>_

Stefan clung tightly to his big brother's hand, and let Damon lead him up the long driveway to the front gate of the school. Stefan squinted at the plaque mounted on one of the stones and asked, "What's that say, Damon?" He put his other thumb in his mouth, and peered up at his eleven year old brother.

Damon didn't bother looking at the sign. "It's just the name of the school, Stef." Stefan nodded and watched as Damon stared at the gates with a crease in his forehead that didn't let up until the gates flew open wide. Stefan used both of his hand to clap obligingly for his brother.

"How come I can't do that?" Stefan asked him, as Damon reclaimed Stefan's hand and walked him up to the front door of the school.

"Because," Damon said patiently, "I have telekinesis and you don't. You're an empath. You can't have two mutant powers. Duh."

"What's telekeenises?"

Damon sighed. "It means I can move stuff around without touching it."

"Oh." A beat of silence. "What's an empath?"

"You can feel what other people are feeling."

"You're annoyed at me."

"See? You're feeling what I'm feeling, right now," Damon said, and then shushed his younger brother now as they walked up to the large front doors of the mansion.

"Damon?"

"What?" Damon asked, knocking on the door.

"Why'd we leave Daddy at home?"

Damon took a deep breath. "Because he doesn't like mutants – which Mom was and we are. So we ran away. Now stop talking –"

The front door opened and a smiling man in a wheel chair greeted them.

"Hello boys, I'm Charles Xavier. Welcome to my school for exceptionally gifted youngsters."


End file.
